Over Coffee & Books
by MischievousRose
Summary: A collection of drabbles, one-shots and short stories in a Modern AU setting. JackXElsa. Jack isn't drunk. Nope! Well, at least he's certain that he isn't and to make matters worst, he decided to hit on the lady who just entered the club, who, coincidentally turns out to be Kristoff's sister-in-law. Oh boy. This isn't going well. (Chapter 10: Clubbing)
1. Chance Meeting

**Chance Meeting**

_**Hi stranger (or friend) who decided to drop by and give this story a shot. Thank you for reading this~ I hope you enjoy~**_

_**Note: This one shot is dedicated to my dear friends (slash virtual sisters), Lia-nee and Sunny, cheer up you two! Stop being so sullen~ And Sunny my dear, live up to your nickname. Stop being so angsty. You make me wanna write fluffeh to balance your angsteh~**_

_**Disclaimer: I waive all rights of claiming the characters as my own. They were not, are not and will not be owned by me (unfortunately). Besides, if I had owned RoTG and Frozen, I'll be hella rich and wouldn't be living in a hermit life. (Speaking of which, *sniffs myself* I need a bath)**_

* * *

_~May the fortress be with you~  
_

* * *

Soft jazz music played within the bookstore as the faint scent of brewed coffee wafted in the air thereby creating the perfect relaxing ambience for a bookworm like Elsa.

She sighed contentedly before she calmly took a sip of her freshly brewed cappuccino as she looked around, peering ever-so-discretely behind her huge thick-rimmed glasses. She was overlooking the view outside the huge glass wall of the said store, watching people as they rushed through the holiday galore doing last minute shopping in frantic paces, carrying paper bags with indented brands and plastics bearing the name of the mall. She hummed as she absentmindedly tugged on the loose end of her scarf that was threatening to fall off her bare shoulder. A small smile crept on her lips as a fleeting thought drifted through her mind. The scene, although mundane, was quite a jovial sight and she wished at the deepest part of her heart, as a family of four passed by with euphoric smiles on their faces, that she could enjoy the scene along with her younger sister and late parents as well.

She shook her head, she's nonetheless grateful for her temporary solitude. She needed a quiet day like this.

Shifting her gaze, she let it fall on the printed text of her book, feeling rather bored from merely observing, she idly skimmed through the page to humor herself, letting the words swirl and enter her brain like a bunch of jumbled pieces forming no coherent thought. Frowning slightly, she ultimately decided that she's in no mood to read and deftly placed the book back on the coffee table.

Picking up her cup, she blew away the smoke that swirled on the surface of her drink only stopping short when she suddenly heard the chime bells ring successively disrupting her from her mindless activity. As if on instinct, her sight followed the source of the tune and saw, to her intrigue, a man about the same age as her, perhaps older or maybe younger, she really couldn't tell. There was this air around him that made him seem childish and approachable although his demeanor didn't give way to any sort of hidden mischief. His lips, a pale pink, almost white, were neither smiling nor frowning and there was this troubled, semi-frustrated look on his face. He was a stranger, that's for sure, but a little nagging feeling within her gut told her that this wasn't the first time she saw him.

She watched him close the door before making his way up through the carpeted stairs and into the lobby of neatly arranged shelves that were securely holding books, magazines and comics that are for sale. She continued to watch with keen interest, even when he turned his back on her, as he browsed over the hobby section and watched still as he ruffled his snow white hair, flattening them against his scalp only to bounce back to their original place. She secretly wondered if they would feel as soft underneath her fingertips the way it does just by looking at them. He grunted, she didn't hear, but she knew he grunted just by looking at the way his lips parted and, again, she wondered if the sound of his voice would trigger the memory back in her head. It came to her as a pleasant surprise when she thought him handsome despite that scowl that deeply etched itself on his face.

_Interesting_

She never thought herself capable of feeling any sort of attraction to the opposite sex, let alone; think like a hormone-crazed _girl_. Although the thought appalled her, it made her relax to some extent since it unanimously proves that she could be normal at some point. Anna wouldn't let her hear the end of this if she knew. Her lips curled into a secretive smile.

She put her coffee down with neither a sip nor a care in favor of picking up her book, resuming to the page she left off, and pretended to read, all the while, her sight never leaving him. She straightened her back, craned her neck and tilted her chin in such an elegant manner, people wouldn't notice that she did that for the sake of…_observing_ someone.

Where had she met him? She distinctly wondered, her thoughts flying through the shabby remnants of time of which people call a memory. Where was it? _When_ was it? Why couldn't she recall any of it?

Perhaps it's just sheer atrocity, a ludicrous thought, her mind jesting on her, _playing tricks on her._

Or maybe she's just nowhere near lucid, the caffeine slowly lulling her to sleep rather than the opposite. Coffee does that to her sometimes but… _no_.

She knew she had met him somewhere. She just can't pinpoint the specifics. Her gaze hardened with scrutiny as she watched with shameless tenacity the fluidity of his movements…but then, she frowned, not bothering to hide her disappointment when he turned behind the shelf and away from her prying eyes. She huffed, letting the air pass through her nose instead of her lips. Her eyes flickered to her now lukewarm coffee, her upper teeth absentmindedly nipping her lower lip as her brows furrowed into an elegant arch.

He's really familiar.

But where had she seen him?

She looked at him again, nearly panicking when she realized he was no longer where she had last seen him, only to regain her composure when she saw him turn into her line of sight. It's weird how he bugs her like no other.

Their gazes met and her heart thumped wildly in her chest, more fearful at being caught staring rather than allured at how blue his eyes were even at a distance. Then he did something that made her nod meekly and her cheeks to blush the faintest of red.

He smiled, a polite one, and tipped his head slightly to the side.

He saw her.

_He saw her staring at him. Openly. Without a sliver of shame whatsoever._

_Kill her now._

She wanted to bury herself in a hole.

That was _embarrassing_.

However, instead of letting her embarrassment get a hold of her, she reciprocated in kind, albeit awkwardly.

After seeing her response, he resumed what he was doing, much to her relief.

And Elsa, embarrassed and humiliated as she was for being caught, finished her drink in one gulp, shoved the book in her bag, grabbed the tissue that was lying by and quickly scribbled her thoughts before fleeing the scene.

"_I've met you before, but I can't remember when, where and how._

_I'm sorry for staring, but I can't help but find you familiar."_

The next time she'll see him, she'll remember and, perhaps, due to this meeting, they'll no longer be mere strangers. She wanted to think they're acquainted—strangers in away, but acquainted to some degree.

And maybe next time, she could apologize for her impolite behavior, but until then, she would like to bury the shame as she took a stroll down the cold snowy path.

* * *

_~May the fortress be with you~  
_

* * *

_**It seems like I have a slight obsession for chance meetings. That is to say that a person at least had met his/her "soul mate" or fated partner a couple of times before they formally met in some sort of minor or major event that would officially bring them together.**_

_**I find this ironic since I am openly and shamelessly an ardent hater of love. Lol. Romantic Love at least, I welcome all the others, while some, I tolerate. Although I must say, it's weird since I have this annoying tendency to romanticize nearly everything. I'm a hopeless romantic at some point, but meh~ If there's one good thing those silly musings brought to me those are **_**ideas**_**. I'm a vowed spinster (I'm not that old yet in case you're wondering) and I think it would be amusing if I'll find someone who'll threaten to change my chosen path in life. Oh what havoc would it wreak? (Ta-ta-ta-ta~ another fanfic on the way, maybe…?) But in my defense, romantic love is an alien concept for me (sort of) but it's not totally unwelcome.**_

_**Heh~ Me and my silly musings.**_

_**Sooo… did you enjoy it? I hope you did! It's Christmas! Let us all have that holiday cheer! **_

_**Wait, no…? Oh… okay. (_ _")**_

_**Ehem~ Also, I guess I'll be making this my nook for all my future Modern AU one-shots or short stories. I'm not sure though. Procrastination is one clingy buddy; he just won't leave me alone. But just in case, stay tune for future updates. (But seeing how this one ended and how another idea is bugging me, I suppose there'll be a part two for this…? I dunno, maybeee…?)**_

_**And I know, for people out there who read that angsty short-story entitled Moonlit Night, what the heck am I even doing here? I should be finishing that two-shot! I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry. I'm currently not motivated to finish that. Yes, I know. It's only two chapters and I couldn't even finish that. Sue me! Wait no! That was just a joke (the suing me part). But I'll finish that! I swear! Just give me a chance! The second chapter currently isn't on par with the quality of the first chapter. You don't like half-baked, mediocre stories, do you?**_

_**I'll try to make it in premium quality (it makes you think of meat, doesn't it? Ugh, I'm hungry), well, within the range of my expertise anyway. So think of it as premium quality via the standards of an amateur writer. Not a good mix but worth a try *cue salesperson smile***_

_**Rose**_


	2. Kissing Santa Claus

**Kissing Santa Claus**

_**Again, I'm expressing my thanks to whoever you are for giving this collection your time of the day. I hope you'll enjoy~**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own RoTG and Frozen. If I did, my friends wouldn't call me a stingy penny pincher and I would've quit college the moment I earned the profit from both movies. All rights of the characters go to DreamWorks and Disney respectively.**_

* * *

_~May the fortress be with you~_

* * *

Elsa carefully tucked her little girl under the cushy covers of the bed making the said girl wrinkle her nose in mild protest, preferring the teasing breeze of winter's breath over the comforting warmth the blanket provided. Her mother, however, ignored her rather cute scowl and went on smoothing out the material's unnecessary wrinkles before leaning over and planting a swift, chaste kiss on her forehead. "Good night, dear." Her mother said, voice as gentle as the sweetest lullaby and with a smile that spoke volumes of love before leaning away, silently gazing at her—_admiring_ her with so much affection and motherly care.

"But I don't want to sleep yet!" She whined with a matching pout, oblivious to the way her mother looked at her like she's the most precious treasure in the world, "I'm not even…" She started, continuing her rant only to be cut off by a soft yawn, "…sleepy yet." She argued, her pale brown brows arching together in an attempt to look serious yet ultimately failing because of the way her eyelids seemed to droop. "I want to see uncle North." She tentatively pushed down her covers feeling uncomfortable with the warmth and wanting nothing more than to kick the said thing to the floor but didn't because she knew her mother would only pick it up to cover her again.

Seeing her acting like that, Elsa could only suppress her chuckle with a gentle smile as she sat down at the edge of her daughter's bed. Amusement twinkled in her eyes at the show of her husband's stubborn character in the person of their child as she pulled the covers back up again, "You know the rules, sweetie." She softly reminded her.

"But I already saw him a couple of times, momma." She insisted, wrinkling her nose once again as she clenched her teeth tight to suppress a yawn that threatened to leave her lips. She pulled the blanket up, covering her head with it and successively exposing her tiny dimpled feet. She satisfactorily wriggled them in the air, liking how the cool breeze teased her skin, before pulling the covers back down to show her face, pout still intact. "And he's my uncle."

"I know." Elsa affirmed with an emphatic nod, "But, Erianthe, uncle North's not your uncle North right now because tonight he's Santa Claus." She softly chastised, lightly tapping the little girl's nose as she did so. "And Santa Claus won't appear unless you're asleep. Don't you want to receive your gift?"

"But…" She started to protest once again only to trail off when she saw her mother's pointed look. She begrudgingly pulled a pillow to her face and mumbled something.

"What was that?" Elsa asked with a triumphant smile on her face knowing that she won the argument.

She sulked before bringing the pillow down to her chest for a hug, "I do." She repeated, a frown etching on her features, unhappy about the fact that her mother's right, _again_. No wonder her dad won't pick an argument with her.

"There's my good girl." Elsa cooed, a little teasingly knowing that Erianthe preferred being considered as an adult despite being in a tender age of five, before she got up for a last goodbye for the night. "Good night." She pecked her daughter's cheek despite the deepened frown and left with a silent chuckle.

_**.xOx..**_

Elsa was busy arranging a small meal for St. North when she heard a faint tapping by the window. She ignored it knowing that whoever it was that made that noise was more than capable of opening it himself. Moments later, wind and snow invaded the area killing what little fire persisted to burn in the fireplace leaving the embers to glow upon themselves as a pair of strong yet lean hands wrapped around her petite frame and a chin nuzzling at the crook of her neck. "You're late, Jack." She smiled more to herself as she set the plate neatly on a small table, a few centimeters away from the mug of steaming hot chocolate.

"Jack? Who's Jack? I have no idea who you're talking about gorgeous missus."

She rolled her eyes as she untangled the arms that wrapped around her in order to face the owner of the voice. She crossed her arms on her chest with an eyebrow raised and an amused smirk playing on her lips. "Really, Jack? A Santa Claus costume…?" She scanned him from top to bottom, biting her lower lip to keep herself from laughing at how oversized the entire suit for him is. She didn't miss the twinkle in his eyes, that proud little glint that gave away his childish and mischievous nature and that barely visible crooked smile that was hidden underneath the fake beard.

He puffed his chest as if doing so would make him look big, "I'll have you know that this suit I'm wearing is 100 percent authentic and original."

"Uh-huh." She hummed, not really buying it but had decided to play along instead. She smoothed the folds of her skirt, patting it down to their rightful place in a subconscious attempt to make herself look presentable before looking up and meeting his gaze. She feigned a surprise look, "And this is new." There was a teasing hint in her tone as she circled him, "I thought Santa Claus was supposed to come in through the chimney," She gestured at the fireplace, "and not the window." She crossed her arms again.

"Oh, I thought I'd try something new." He reasoned, desperately tugging on his belt to make it tighter since the pants he is wearing are dangerously slipping down his waist while simultaneously fixing his face into a nonchalant expression to play it cool.

She only raised her brow, giving him one of those pointed looks again.

"Come on, Snowflake!" He whined, a childish pout slowly making its way on his face, she couldn't help but snicker at the father and daughter's uncanny resemblance. His frown deepened but decided to let her reaction slide as he continued dramatizing his point, "You should play along. We rarely had time to have fun with just the two of us ever since you became so caught up with being the doting mother to Erianthe."

"I'll have you know, Mr. Frost, that you dote on her more than I do." She huffed rather haughtily.

"I do no—" He tried to protest but was cut off by her 'are you seriously going to deny that?' look. "Ok fine. Maybe I do." He reluctantly admitted with a grumble.

Her expression turned aghast at the word, 'maybe'.

"Ok. So I do." He snorted, finally giving up while at the same wondering why he even bothered to put up a fight, "But come on!" He said, trying to look as persuasive as he could despite his rather comical outward appearance. He looked like a person wearing a red sack with thick fur lining. "Play with me?"

She tried to keep a blank expression but gave up halfway when he brushed his fake beard with his fingers while simultaneously wriggling his eyebrows. She cracked a smile before sighing exasperatedly, "And this," She gestured to all of him, "is your idea of fun?" She asked with a hint of laughter.

He nodded.

"Then to what do I owe this kindly visit?" She asked, finally giving in as she leaned closer to circle her arms around his neck.

He responded with an enthusiastic smile, keeping her close by entrapping her in his arms, "I just wanted to visit the queen since I've heard rumors about her enchanting beauty." He leaned even closer, bumping their foreheads gently and leaving it like that, loving how the simple contact of their skin still arouses that pleasant tingly feeling. "And I must say," He said with a hint of formality for good measure, "I am greatly enamored."

She merely chuckled, had it been 7 years ago, she would be blushing fiercely but she'd been with him for a good amount of time that she had already gotten used to his flirtatious antics. She knew she's one lucky woman to have found a man such as him. Life with him is anything but boring. "I am very much pleased to receive such flattery, Mr. Claus." She pressed a hand on his lips when she noticed that he was about to swoop down for a kiss, "But I have a husband and I love him dearly." She untangled herself from his embrace and placed a distance between them. There was a playful spark in her eyes and a coy yet somehow mischievous smile dangling on her lips.

"One little kiss wouldn't hurt, now, would it?" He tried to tempt, "Consider it a once in a lifetime tryst with yours truly." He then did a gentlemanly bow, bending a good 90 degrees, eyes casted on the floor, a hand on his chest while the other kept the pants from slipping off into the floor.

She pretended to think and waited for him to straighten his back, "Perhaps, one will do." She couldn't help but chuckle at the way his eyes lit up and how his entire physique exuded an aura of triumph. She scooted closer, "And since it's only one kiss…" She trailed off with a flirty semi-suggestive smile, "I'm going to make it count." She said as she circled her arms around his neck once again.

"Anything the queen wants." He leaned in and their lips finally touched. The kiss was both chaste and sweet and they could feel how days of being apart finally took its toll as they tried to deepen the kiss—cue word being _tried_. Once Jack darted his tongue from his mouth, it met the fake fur of his beard forcing him to break their kiss and grumble. Elsa laughed knowing what exactly happened because, truth be told, she was bothered by the way the beard tickled her skin; she just didn't want to ruin the moment by complaining.

They never noticed or heard the small gasp and the frantic thud against the stairs. Oblivious as they were, Elsa continued laughing, one hand covering mouth while the other circled her stomach as she bent over and let a series of giggles leave her lips. Jack scowled as he ripped the beard from his face, looking like he just ate something extremely sour by the way his face contorted with unexplainable discomfort. "It wasn't _that_ funny." He grumbled and she just doubled over in laughter.

"Yes it was." She managed to retort as she wiped the tears that were prickling at the corners of her eyes.

"Yea, yea," He glared at her with a deepening scowl, "Go on and laugh at me." He sulked sullenly as he crossed his arms on his chest, his scowl receding to that of a pout before finally turning to that of a smile. His gaze softened as he watched with affection the woman of his dreams, now his wife, as she laughed at his expense. Darn! It's a good thing they have a daughter because if they didn't, he wouldn't know where he could put all the extra love he had for his wife. It's just…._overflowing_. Then he winced at the cheesiness of his thoughts.

Really, Jack? You have to be cheesy now?

Realizing that she's still laughing, his face turned smug as amusement danced in his eyes, "Hold up! That's enough laughter for the night, Snowflake." He playfully chastised.

She ignored him.

He raised a brow as he wore an expression that blatantly says, 'challenge accepted', "I see," He carefully approached her with a teasing smile, "If you won't stop," He paused for a more dramatic effect and to check if she's listening—she wasn't. "I'll just give you a reason to laugh then."

That seemed to get her. She stopped laughing and looked at him with a challenging stare, "You wouldn't." She hissed through her teeth.

"Watch me." He declared before jumping on her, poking her sides and tickling her. She gasped before squealing, kicking and trashing around.

"Stop!" She begged in between laughter, tears prickling once again, "Jack!"

And their night went on with more rounds of laughter and playful fights.

_**.xOx..**_

It was Christmas day and the guardians, along with Elsa and Erianthe, were gathered in one out of many dining halls Nicholas St. North owns. They were happily eating their dinner, enjoying the smoked ham that Phil prepared (that was after he finished preparing the turkey when Nick scolded him and told him that thanksgiving was over) when Erianthe suddenly stood up on her chair with an inquisitive look on her face. "Uncle Nick, why did you kiss my momma yesterday?" She asked with all the innocence of a child.

Everyone around the table looked at the little girl with a stare of incredulity, excluding Elsa who seemed to appear calm despite the furious blush on her face as she carefully minced her food with her cutlery and Jack who just sheepishly looked away.

"I thought only my daddy is allowed to kiss my momma on the lips." She added, as if to add more fuel to the fire.

Elsa inwardly groaned and wished right then and there to have one of St. North's magical snow globes while Jack mentally face palmed. Sandy conjured his golden sands to form a question mark above his head, Tooth had her jaw slack and eyes wide open with shock while Bunny gave Jack an accusatory glare.

"I did no such thing, dear." Nick said once he got out of his stupor, his accent dripping thickly over his words. He then narrowed his eyes at Jack, who was currently whistling a Christmas tune to himself, "Come to think of it, one of my suits went missing yesterday." He stood up, "Jack," He called the younger guardian, brows furrowed together, "I need to speak to you regarding that thieving incident."

The winter spirit groaned. He's dead.

* * *

_~May the fortress be with you~_

* * *

_**Lol. I'm late but it's better late than never. I mean, I would've uploaded this yesterday if, you know, I was able to finish this on time, but nooooooooo, **_**someone**_** just had to piss me off therefore making me postpone my plans for writing. I can't write fluff while I'm pissed off. There are extra sensitive readers out there who can tell the emotions of the writers behind the screen. *stares with scrutiny at you* you know who you are and I'm wary of you.**_

_**Anyway, BELATED MERRY CHRISTMAS~! ^O^**_

_**All of that aside, what do you guys think? Like it? Hate it? Regret that you ever read it? **_

_**Oh to heck with it! It would be nice to know your thoughts and actually know if you've enjoyed this. But it's your call. Besides, I'm actually looking and waiting for any sort of constructive criticisms in the reviews. I want to write better stories for you guys and I need you to help me. I can't criticize my own work. I would be biased.**_

_**Next chapter could be either of the three: continuation of the first chapter, angst or sleeping beauty-ish modern AU.**_

_**But I don't know when I'll update. I have pending projects like, drawing symbols, buildings and flags, designing costumes for the dance, practicing the dance itself and writing a report. But please do stay tune for the next one-shot.**_

_**Rose**_

_**PS: I kind of got lazy near the end. Sorry 'bout that. Complain all you want though. I'd totally understand.**_


	3. Sleeping Beauty

**Sleeping Beauty**

**Hi~ So…uhm… I was actually thinking of making a "New Year" themed one-shot but I don't want to be breaking promises. I did say in the last chapter that it's either of the following: the continuation of chapter one, the sleeping beauty-ish modern AU or the angst. So here it is~ I hope you enjoy.**

**To Secretly a Duck, I loved your latest update for **_**Vignettes of Ice and Snow**_**, dearie. Keep the fluffs coming! Let's start New Year's with a smile and a boatload of fluff…and I'm still waiting for you to update **_**The Winter Thief**_**. It's been **_**months**_**.**

**To hydro0228, quit brewing those awesome plots you have no plan on writing and start updating SC and JnD! But ah…no pressure ^==^, **_**brother**_**.**

**To Lia-nee, thanks for being my number one commentator ever since Karen-nee became less active in FB.**

**Disclaimer: I deny all claims of owning Frozen and Rise of the Guardian's characters. They're not mine and will never be mine (unless some sort of miracle happens like me being the only living relative of Walter Disney or something).**

* * *

_~May the fortress be with you~_

* * *

_"There's witchcraft in her lips,_  
_Seduction in her words,_  
_She speaks with such allure,_  
_And moves with such mystique,_  
_She's the epitome of mystery.__  
__Cryptic in her ways, __  
__she plays with your head__  
__and tramples on your heart.__  
__But what do I do with this heart of mine?__  
__This sick little critter which pines for love?__  
__I am utterly bewitched and there's nothing I can do, __  
__for she had cast a spell on me no man can undo."_

**_oOXOo_**

Elsa had always intrigued Jack.

But to be fair, she intrigues everybody.

There's just something about her that naturally _ensnares_ anyone's attention… _something_ that just renders you _immobile_ and _frozen_ as your gaze locks on her. _But what exactly is it?_

The answers are at the tip of his tongue and it's hard to draw the words out. He narrowed his eyes, his gaze trapped on her. Was it her looks? No, he mentally shook his head. He knows it wasn't just her looks. He's not _that_ shallow. Certainly not!

She obviously was and still is physically attractive. Anyone with a pair of eyes couldn't possibly deny that. But what draws him to her wasn't about the way how deep her teal blue eyes were and how they would stare curtly behind the frame of her thick black lashes nor was it about how her bewitching gaze had this perplexing ability of sucking you into their icy cold depth, drowning you in the emotions that lay hidden behind it. No, it was not it. Although, he must admit, it had a contributing factor. It added a bit to her mystique.

It was also not about how the contours of her cheeks brought out the beautiful almond shape of her cat-like eyes nor was it about how easy it was for a pretty rosy hue to bloom on them whenever she feels embarrassed or shy or mad or frustrated.

_No._

It was _way_ more than that.

_It was in the way she held herself_—always poised and elegant and brimming with confidence in whatever she had or wanted to do.

_It was in the way she walked_; the way she moved with fluid grace and unadulterated femininity despite the few counted times he, much to his smug amusement, caught her nearly tripping on her own feet or running into a wall because she was so preoccupied with her book or thoughts or both.

_It was in her intellect_, of how she politely and diplomatically raises an opinion, debunks false facts, asks questions and provides reasons as to why it should be or why it shouldn't be, even going as far as citing books, philosophers, scientists and whatnot, leaving her audience in awe and utter amazement, him included, as they listened to her words, all the while, being gently persuaded by that smooth and sultry tone of her voice that would thickly lather over her words. She was _driven _by her _passion_ for _knowledge _and _thirst _for _wisdom_—and he… he _liked_ that. God knows how fed up he is of conceited girls acting all dumb and flirty thinking that it's cute.

But most of all, Elsa intrigues him because she's an enigma—a puzzling mystery that no one had successfully figured out.

And Jack, who was and _is_ curious by nature, naturally gravitates towards mysteries.

He wanted to _figure her out_.

It was strange, really, for a girl of her caliber to prefer spending her time in solitude rather than ravishing in the attention that was given to her. It was almost as if she _shies away_ from it—as if being invisible is much better than being noticed, granted that he shouldn't be the one to talk since he kind of does the same thing (in his defense, he found all those attention-whores and social climbers really annoying) but she's a _girl_ and girls like attention, or at least, that's what he assessed from all the schools he'd been from.

Sucks for her though, people were instantly lured by her…_aura_. She had this influential air around her, although slightly intimidating, that seems to give people their highly-needed boost of self-confidence. Jack doesn't get it himself, but she just…_does_ and it's nearly _vexing_ how addicting it is. A little praise, or even a small smile or a simple nod of acknowledgement just does the job and people would then walk off, head held high and with smug expressions on their faces as if to say, 'I've exchanged pleasantries with the queen and that makes me into a _something_.'

Now imagine his bewildered look of amusement as he watches his school's so-called queen dozing off in the library with an open book sprawled idly on the desk and another stack of books placed lazily beside it. Her torso was swaying forwards along with her head with a few of her bangs hiding her face and her braid coming undone. The view was refreshing to say the least. It's nice to know that she could be…_human_. He chuckled slightly to himself. It's just that Elsa, as far as the majority of the student body is concerned, is the epitome of the word _perfection_. She rarely makes mistakes and carries out her duty professionally. Thinking about that now, that probably explains her current condition.

The poor girl must be exhausted.

Suddenly, the urge to take care of her took over him, which is weird; he calmed himself down, successively ignoring the instinct that had tried to take over. They don't even know each other that well. They are technically strangers who passes by each other every once in a while, besides, it's not like she knew he existed, however, that thought didn't stop him to whip out his phone and thumb through the screen before touching the camera icon.

A smirk tugged on his lips as he focused the lens on her and snapped a picture.

_Click!_

He grimaced at how loud the sound of the camera's shutter was before frowning when he saw her stir. Quickly, he hid behind one of the bookshelves as he watched her blink her eyes in confusion and look around. He silently slapped his forehead. _Idiot_. He forgot to turn off the shutter. He saw her furrow her brows before looking at her wrist, probably to check for time. _Oh well_, he thought as he checked at the picture he just took,_ at least the picture turned out well._

The next time he looked at where she once sat, she was no longer there.

Shrugging to himself, he swiftly made the picture his cellphone's wallpaper and made sure that his phone had a security lock so no prying eyes would see his little leisure.

He can't risk people thinking of him like a creep now, would he?

**_oOXOo_**

After that library incident, he seemed to be seeing her everywhere and most of the times she, much to his amusement, was nearly always asleep.

Another thing he observed though was that she's a light sleeper. She stirs from the minutest disturbance in her environment and would continue, almost comically, from where she left off like she hadn't slept for the last 20 minutes or so.

It's almost _adorable_.

He pretended to scratch an imaginary itch at the side of his lips with the back of his hand to hide the smile that threatened to show on his face, however, the crinkle at the corner of his eyes exposed him. Fortunately for him, no one seems to notice.

Currently, Elsa is dozing off under a tree, sitting cross-legged with a book tucked neatly at the space within her folded legs. She had let her hair down today, making it cascade like waves of silvery gold on one side of her shoulder while she nodded off again, back hunched against the lean, broad trunk of the tree and a curtain of hair shielding one side of her face from prying eyes. She started leaning sideways, her upper body slowly responding to the call of gravity before she finally fell. She didn't seem to mind though since she made her hands into a makeshift pillow, her book now pressed tightly in between her thighs before curling herself into a fetal position.

There was a pleasant smile plastered on her luscious, dark pink lips..._a sign of good dreams._

Seriously, she's such a sleeping beauty.

* * *

_~May the fortress be with you~_

* * *

**To Tilly0006, I'm glad you enjoyed reading this and thank you for taking time in reviewing. It really means a lot to me. ^^**

**To SureSnowflake, you go do your thing, dear. Notify me once it gets published. I'll be waiting! ^^**

***covers myself* Don't hate me! That's not the original plot of this story. There was supposed to be a bet and a kiss but it's for another one-shot series I'm planning to write over the course of my stay here in this fandom. It's going to be called **_**Twisted Fairytales**_** and if the title ain't hint enough for you, then it's a collection of classic fairytales, twisted and manipulated into my liking. I don't think anyone has done it in this fandom…**_**yet**_**.**

**And whew! The descriptions must've bored you too. XD They don't have much of an interaction here besides Jack being a creep, but the original story is alike and better.**

**Oh well.**

**And there's gotta be a lot of confused tenses there too. I would really appreciate it if you guys would help. I'm experimenting with the usage of the present tense and…I think I'm doing a bad job at it.**

**Rose**


	4. Jealousy

**_Warning_****: Mild** **angst** **and** **tons** **of** **years** **late** **teenage** **drama.**

**Disclaimer: I** **couldn't** **even** **draw to save my** **life** **and** **I'm** **a** **CGI** **dunce. Now** **how** **on** **earth** **could** **I** **ever** **own** **RoTG** **and** **Frozen, much** **less** **become** **a** **part** **of** **its** **production** **crew?**

* * *

_~May the fortress be with you~_

* * *

I know it's wrong to feel this way.

But can you blame me?

Oh what am I saying. Of course you could, _would_ is a more appropriate term, rather. I have _no right_ and yet I _feel_ this way. I sicken you, don't I? You don't have to lie... I'm disgusted with myself too.

Who was it that trampled on your love when you bared your soul, your heart, _your everything_ to me?

It was me, wasn't it?

But I loved you, despite everything I said, _I love you_.

I just couldn't find the guts, the strength, the _courage_ to wear my heart on my sleeve and reciprocate your love with the same intensity.

I wish I could be more like you.

But I couldn't, not even if I try my hardest.

_I'm a coward despite the strength I show._

I envy you, I envy her.

Yet I don't have the right to feel this way because in the end, _it's all my fault._ I pushed you away, would rather have you out of my life than confront the feelings that would disrupt my sleep, create a storm in my head and wreak havoc in my heart.

Everything is just so _foreign_, is just so _new_ that I don't know what to do.

_I'm scared._

_I'm sorry, Jack. I really am._

And as much as I want to take back the words I've said and bring back the time just so I could change it-I couldn't.

_You're now happy with her._

And I regret the choices I've made.

If it makes you feel any better, I go to sleep at night yearning for your presence, _yearning for your embrace_ and I still check my messages morning and night hoping you'd send me those greetings you used to do way back..._then_.

Those simple _good morning_ and _good night_ would suffice, you know that, right? They're enough to brighten my day and make my dreams pleasant.

I appreciated the effort despite not showing it.

I'm an idiot, aren't I?

And I'm more of an idiot because I knew and was fully aware of the consequences my actions were going to give.

And yet, here I am, drowning in my jealousy, rotting with all the guilt and regret that would plague me at night, like a routinely nightmare doing their usual shift.

And as I let my tears fall on the blaring screen of my phone, you slowly approached me from the corner of my eye, worry evident on your face, your feelings as genuine and as pure as before even though I couldn't see you through my blurred eyesight. I just know you so much and it hurts me even more that after all I did, _you still cared_.

Although not in the same way as before.

And the thought sears a pain into my heart, my hand reflexively clenching the empty space near my chest as if doing so would numb the pain inside.

_But it didn't._

"Elsa?" You called my name, with a voice that's soft yet deep and a tone that's both tentative and hesitant. It makes my hair stand on end as I involuntarily shiver at the pleasure of hearing it. _I shouldn't be enjoying myself this much by just hearing you speak, should I?_

"What's wrong?" You asked, your hand resting daintily on my shoulder, as if putting all your weight on me would crush me, _break_ me, _shatter me_. Even by just that one simple touch, I could feel your worry and concern.

_I don't want it._

Don't raise my hopes up the same way I did to you.

"Don't touch me." I hissed, not fully meaning it as I instinctively glared at you.

You raised both your hands up in surrender, a pained expression in your eyes as you managed to force out a smile.

"I'm sorry." You said.

And once again, guilt filled my heart like no other. _I didn't mean to._ "Just don't touch me." I spat through gritted teeth, _I'm afraid I'll break more than I should. I sucked in a breath, attempting with all my might to calm myself, "Just go back to her_. She's more important to you now."

I know I sounded bitter but I couldn't bother to hide it.

Your face turned solemn, "You could still give yourself a chance you know."

Hesitance filled me, but my decision didn't waver, "No. Just be happy with her." And you scrutinized me. I know what you're searching and you wouldn't get it. So I closed my eyes hoping you'll get the message.

I heard you sigh and I could imagine you frustratedly running your fingers through your hair. "If that's what you want."

_I'm sorry, Jack._

_I'm dying anyway. I can't allow myself to be selfish, you'll just hurt yourself in the end._

_I'm sorry._

* * *

_~May the fortress be with you~_

* * *

**I was scrolling through my files in my broken, retarded tablet when I came across this one. Do you guys know of Evernote? I write my drafts there sometimes, usually when I'm at school and not listening to my professor's discussions or whenever my PC would start acting like a she-male mutt** **not** **being** **able** **to** **mate** **during** **mating season. You get the gist? **

**Anyway, I was about to delete this because I vaguely remember labeling this as another trash document because I was oddly unsatisfied more than usual with how this turned out. However, after reading this and deciding that this is okay-ish, I took the plunge and decided to post this here.** **Still, I'm having** **doubts** **because** **it's** **angsty.**

**Don't** **look** **at** **me** **like** **that! I** **have** **no** **idea** **what** **happened, 'Kay? I** **was** **mulling** **over** **what** **to** **write** **for** **Christmas** **and** **bam! I** **was** **being** **a** **Grinch** **and** **this** **fiction** **came** **to** **life. I** **don't** **know** **what** **sickness** **Elsa** **had** **magically** **acquired** **nor** **do** **I** **have** **an** **idea** **what** **transpired** **between** **our** **favorite** **pair. It** **just...****_happened_** **into, well, ****_this_****.**

**To make up for the angst, the next update will be another fluff. :3**

**Nevertheless, I** **hope** **you** **enjoyed** **reading** **what** **I've** **wrote.**

**Rose**


	5. Allure

_**Allure**_

**Hi! **

**To Anonymous394, Uzumaki - Dragneel, Tilly0006 and SureSnowflake, a hundred thanks to you for putting in extra effort to review. ^^ I don't know what to say, really. But I am sincerely happy. You guys are sweet. Thank you!**

**Thank you also to those who followed and added this collection in their favorites. I'm glad that you enjoyed the stories enough for you to want to keep track to where this goes. Thank you, thank you, thank you!**

**To the fortress, well, do I really have to say my thanks too? =3=? We talk at least once a day; you know how thankful I am for you (even though you could get annoying).**

**With that being said, enjoy~**

**Disclaimer: Wait at least a century for me to get super-duper rich and maybe I can own Disney and DreamWorks by then. For now, Frozen and RoTG belongs to their rightful owners.**

* * *

_~May the fortress be with you~_

* * *

I don't think I can ever forget that intoxicatingly sweet scent that lingered in the hallway during the first day of school. The seductive scent of vanilla lace and midnight passion created that innocent yet edgy aroma seemingly drugging any passerby with a brief yet addictive dose of ecstasy leaving you looking for more. I looked up and sniffed more of the air just by pure curiosity of wanting to know where the fragrance came from and was immediately overcome with shock when I came eye to eye with a pair of cerulean blue orbs that looked dull and hollowed-out—emotionless, even.

I held my breath, astonished by the doll-like features of the bearer. Her skin was in-between fair and pale, perhaps a bit more porcelain-like and her hair was a rich silvery blonde that flowed like waves behind her back. Her lips, both slender and pink, were neither smiling nor frowning and her brows were perfectly arched above her eyes. She gave off a mysterious appeal, her aura emanating a contrasting atmosphere of being mature yet childish, naive yet wise, innocent yet somewhat tainted.

I blinked and snapped out of my trance when she looked away and continued to walk past me, our shoulders nearly brushing.

"Jack!" I heard Aster, a senior and a friend of mine call me, successfully diverting my gaze towards his. He was stomping his feet with an impatient frown on his face, barely keeping his grimace from showing, as he raised an annoyed brow.

My feet moved towards him but I couldn't help but want to steal a glance one more time.

I looked at her retreating back, my eyes probably gleaming with obvious curiosity as the wind blew by and carried her scent—that same intoxicating scent.

* * *

_~May the fortress be with you~_

* * *

**I am so tired…**

…**and stressed**

**If you could see my face, you'll notice I'm carrying teabags under my eyes and that my face is haggard and cultivating pimples. Eugh! T_T I am extremely busy so I wouldn't be as active for the next few weeks or so. Rest assured, I'll still update this every once in a while (especially when I am supper stressed, like now, to relieve some of the tension in my life).**

**Thanks for reading this and sorry about how the drabble is so short. (._.) Still, I hope this is to your liking. :)**

**Sincerely,**

**Rose**


	6. Dance

**Hi~ Long time no update. I've been busy these past few weeks.**

**I'm not really sure if I'm going to finish this or not, the plot is actually longer, but I have pending projects that are due this week and so I have no choice but to rush this and just present a scene instead of the entire story.**

**I hope you'll enjoy this nonetheless and I'm sorry if it's not satisfactory.**

**Without further ado~**

"NO WAY!" "I'm sorry, what?"

Thiana sucked in her breath as if doing so would help her muster all her courage. She knows of the heated rivalry between the two but this is a _desperate _situation and a desperate situation calls for desperate measures. Peeking curtly through her own long lashes, she gave them her sincerest, most pleading look she could ever summon right at this moment. "Elsa, Jack," They're still looking at her like she grew another head, "I know you _hate_ each other—"

Jack interrupted her with a scoff and she knew that Elsa is holding down hers out of respect. She's thankful for the effort of the latter. "You are honestly making a recipe for disaster." He quipped dryly, his look blatantly sardonic and sarcastic.

She ignored him, "But the school _needs_ you. We haven't won anything in the interschool ballroom competition since I became head of the Phys Ed department." She reasoned, looking honestly and sincerely hopeless about the situation. She saw Elsa give her an empathic look and she felt her hope fuel knowing that the younger girl naturally has a soft heart. She might be able to persuade her…but Jack would need a bit more effort. "Please, _please_, help me? Just this once, please?"

If worse comes to worst, she might have to use _that_.

"Ms. Thiana," Elsa stepped forward, looking at her with the most apologetic expression she had ever seen in the younger girl, "I would gladly help, but if my partner is a _dunce_ then I'm afraid there's no working out."

"I'm not a dunce!" Jack protested in the background.

Elsa rolled her eyes and the older lady couldn't help but crack a smile. Their banter kind of reminded her of Harrison and Astrid, the winners of the interschool ballroom competition 3 years ago, Astrid hated Harisson's guts to an irrational level, calling him a hiccup for continuously messing up the steps and even loudly proclaiming that he couldn't lift her even if that's the only way to save his life—Harrison proved her wrong. They'd been partners ever since.

"But you two are my best students." She intentionally let her voice crack, putting in extra effort to look more vulnerable and lost and teary and at the brink of breaking.

They both looked at each other warily, a sort of mutual understanding passing over them, and she just _knows_ that she had won. She resisted the urge to smile.

"What do I get out of this?" Jack groaned.

"You're excused from classes for two weeks."

Another look passed over them-a promise of momentary truce.

And Thiana won with stride.

**…**

Thiana and Aster stood in a support position where he is gripping her on her right shoulder, her right hand gripping his and her left holding his right arm. His left hand snaked around her waist and they're both locked in an intimate position. "This is your entrance position." She explained with Aster looking as if he'd been forced into this, which is probably _not_ far from the truth, and her students mirroring his look. Elsa's expression was more subtle and controlled, however, having been raised to be polite and respectful in the face of the adults.

"Jack, press the play button," A remix of Rihanna's _Don't Stop The Music_ swiftly played in the background, they stood still for a while but when she heard the cue, she swiftly hopped and did a twirl in midair before ending in a position where she's splitting in the air with Aster's left hand supporting the balance of her left leg and his right hand supporting her weight, "And this is your first movement."

Both of her students frowned even as she gracefully got down on her feet. "Any objections?" She asked, both hands on her hips, a bright smile on her face.

At first, there was a pregnant pause making her think that there really are no objections but when she was about to force them into doing the same routine, Jack raised his hand with a stupid look on his face.

"Yes, Jack?"

"I'm fine with it, but Elsa isn't flexible." She watched Elsa shoot daggers at him while she only raised an eyebrow in amusement, she could also see Aster smirk in her peripheral vision, "I mean she's so rigid and uptight and _very_ nowhere near flexible." He's not referring to her student's physical flexibility, she wryly noted, but on her emotional rigidness. She's sure that Elsa noticed it too based from her response.

She was about to reply when Elsa daintily raise a hand too; her face was calm but her eyes were dancing with fire, "Yes, Elsa?"

"I have no complaints about doing that," She started with a sweet smile, "But I don't trust my partner. He's a magnet of trouble and he might drop me _inten—_" She cleared her throat as if what she said was not on purpose, it was Jack's turn to glare now, "_unintentionally_." And she returned his glare with more intensity.

Thiana nearly groaned, having them partner up was hard enough but having them _dance together_ and _cooperate_ seems much _much_ harder than she imagined.

Oh dear, she thought miserably as she watched them have a glaring competition, maybe having them dance together was a bad decision.


	7. Mint Chocolate

**Hi again~**

**I want to personally thank, ****_pinkkiko _****for simply loving the drabbles. I must admit though that there are works here that I don't really like, but I'm glad you love it!**

**Hi, ****_Trapid_****, yeah, hi. You're very known, did you know that? So I'm quite thankful that you actually left me a review (and flustered). I wanted to thank you for the review in ****_The Looking Glas_****s, I think...? Yea. So uhm...ah... thanks. ^w^ **

_**OoPoPcAnDy**__,___**I actually planned on doing that but I was running out of time yesterday. About turning Dance into a full story...I sincerely want to do that, but we'll see... I have a few more other drabbles I still needed to write and they're still fluffy and stuff.**

**Karen-nee, the only time a college student is not busy is when it's summer ;_; and as much as I want to continue the story, I want to finish all the one-shots during the vacation. All I'm posting here are random scenes I dribbled somewhere. Lend me your awesomeness and that inspiration fairy too TT_TT**

**Guesthuuu, you have a very peculiar name, person, and I'm glad you like the latest chapter. We'll see if it's going to get continued though. The story writes itself.**

**And so without further ado...**

**_Mint Chocolate_**

The bottle spun and spun until it finally stopped landing on...

"Jack!" Anna giggled with a drunken smile on her face before she hiccuped making Kristoff frown at her, the latter obviously concerned for the former's well-being. Everybody knew that Anna had zero to no alcohol tolerance and how she was able to persuade him into this was _way _beyond him. "Truth or dare?" She asked, wriggling her eyebrows playfully at Jack with her eyes glinting the mischievous kind, kind of like the one the snowy-haired man usually wore.

Both Kristoff and Elsa became irritably aware at how similar the two are starting to get-in a brotherly and sisterly way, of course, that the latter contemplated on not leaving the two of them alone, _ever_. Jack is becoming a bad influence on her baby sister and that is just not good, nuh-uh. That's not to say that he wasn't a bad influence on her personally, because he was-_is_ and she would rather not think of the million reasons why. She peeked curtly through her lashes, watching her boyfriend's wry smirk as he mockingly contemplated on what to choose. Elsa hoped he would choose the less embarrassing kind since Jack has his playful yet annoying tendency of teasing her and basing from her own sister's expression, any dare that involves Jack would involve her.

Jack, seeing through the younger Arendelle's plans, shifted his gaze towards his girlfriend and chuckled a little at her nervous and faintly flushed expression before he casually raised his brows in understanding with his smirk twitching in a way as if to prevent a bigger smile, "Truth." He suavely answered, breezily waving his hand with a hint of boredom in his tone. Personally speaking, he was up for any dare Anna has up in her sleeve as long as it involved Elsa in the equation. He meant that it's _Anna_, she's probably just going to ask him to make out with her older sister in front of her because, he quotes in his head, _she had never seen them kiss_, unquote. He sees Elsa sigh in relief and he almost took back his answer just to tease her.

"You're no fun." Anna pouted with a glare, to the amusement of everyone in the room. She seems to struggle in holding it though since her eyeballs seems to have a mind of its own, rolling all the way back into her head as her eyelids seemed to be lidded with heavy metal, drooping constantly and lulling her into sleep. She shook her head and blinked rapidly before hiccuping again. Oh no. She ain't sleeping yet. Sleep is for the weak!

Jack only shrugged in response before securing Elsa's shoulders within his arm, coincidentally, Elsa giggled behind her hand, finding amusement at her little sister's drunken appearance. She leaned into Jack, craning her neck so that her lips were merely inches away from his ear, "You're a bad influence on her." She murmured, pressing her lips rather intimately against his ear, the cool breath of her mouth fanning his neck and sending a delicious shiver down his spine, her fragrance infiltrating his nose and drugging him.

_Mint._

_He_ chuckled once he snapped out of his trance, "I try." He replied wryly earning a small slap on his chest. He then bent his head down, snuggling his chin at the crook of her neck before inhaling her sweet scent.

_Chocolate._

Anna cackled as she clapped her hands together, "Kristoff!" She exclaimed excitedly, pulling on her boyfriend's golden mane to bring his face closer to hers.

Kristoff winced but made no move to untangle her fingers despite his irritated look.

"They're so sweet!" She slurred, maneuvering his head so that he'll look at them, she then pressed her cheek against his, "Do that," _hic_, "to me too~" She sang.

Kristoff gently pried her fingers away from him, locking them in his, "As much as I'd love to, princess," He started before clearing his throat once he noticed Jack's mocking smirk and Elsa's amused one, "You better finish the game so that you could sleep."

"Game?" She laughed uncontrollably as if he just told the best joke in the universe, when she stared at him and saw his pointed look, she seemed to sober up for a bit, "Oh right!" She clapped her hands together, "Jack I dare you to-"

"It's truth, Anna" They chorused, a matching look of amusement plastered on their faces.

"Oh," she muttered as drunken realization hit her, "Psh!" She waved her hand, knocking down the glass of tequila, "I know that." She huffed haughtily before squinting her eyes, a cackle leaving her lips once she saw the disfigured images of her companions before her she caught sight of the fruits in the fruits basket, "What's your favorite flavor?"

Jack stared at Elsa, who was staring at her sister with a bemused expression, and smiled. Well the answer is simple, "Mint chocolate." He replied, snuggling deeper at the crook of Elsa's neck and inhaling more of her.

Now that wasn't so hard.


	8. Three Seconds

**This ought to be a miracle, I'm updating this collection thrice in a week. Lol. This probably means I'll be going into an indefinite hiatus again. I could just see it. XD**

**Olah~ You're probably not interested but I'm being a bad student. I wrote this instead of the Thesis I'm supposed to finish by tonight and I'm not even halfway done. Still, I'm strangely motivated for reasons I couldn't specifically say (but it had something to do with being given a spoiler for Child of the Winter Solstice, GAAAH! I LOVE YOU KAREN-NEE! YOU'RE THE BEST!** **WOOHOO!). I needed a break lest I go into a mental breakdown and not be able to do anything at all.**

**Still, I never proofread any of my works here (this is my nook for all the stupid, fluffy, reject and basically a plethora of _not_ seriously written stories) so read at your own risk. :3**

**Mrs. Uzamaki - Dragneel, glad you liked it dearie but don't die. I'll be sad. D: I mean, who'll read and spazz about this once you do? By the way, I'm still brewing out something for you. I'll give you a shout-out once I'll be able to publish that drabble. Anyway, have a good read~**

**Guesthuuu, well, it could work that way. :3 But seriously though, I don't know if I'll be able to continue _"Dance",_ however, I have a drabble I meant to write that still includes Jelsa and ballroom dancing. Maybe you'll like that. What do you think of the waltz? **

**Hi Guest who feels like Trapid, you actually are. Writers I know are very appreciative of your reviews since they're concise and straight to the point though not necessarily critical. You review story-wise and according to your opinions which is very admirable. Still, thank you.**

**To all the silent readers out there, thank you for taking your time in reading this. I hope you'll enjoy.**

**Three seconds**

Jack stared blankly at the picture of a platinum-blonde haired woman he'd taken several years ago when he was but an amateur photographer pushing the boundaries of his limits. He allowed a small, barely noticeable, bitter smile to dwell on his handsome face. He didn't know her age, her address, her name—she was basically a stranger and yet when he was looking for the perfect picture to complete his portfolio for the final phase of his apprenticeship... she was just..._there_, sitting serenely on an isolated park bench under a massive willow tree right across from him. The only thing that separated them was the huge man-made pond with ducks floating about in-between them.

He couldn't help himself as he reached for the camera and, with a click, he took her picture without her consent. To say that he was surprised at how well it looked considering that it was a stolen candid shot wasn't an overstatement. She looked so calm and tranquil and peaceful and detached from the trivialities of the mundane world… it was _so_ hard to try _not_ to look at her. She was there, sitting and simply _enjoying the_ _now_ rather than rushing about for the future.

She was content and absolutely gorgeous.

And it drove him crazy how he couldn't forget about her even until now. It's been _years_. It's about time he got over her.

Three seconds, he remembered, it took him three seconds to fully capture her image and engrave it in his mind—and unwittingly, his heart.

It's stupid, he knew, how could he feel so enamored and attracted to a stranger he never had the guts to formally meet and introduce himself to? Much more so when he never even had the chance to meet her again.

When he came back to the park after he passed his portfolio, a good few days ever since that day he took her picture, she wasn't there anymore but he still persevered-his _foolish_ _love struck_ self still hoping he'll get a chance to meet her again.

But it never happened.

After a year and a half of trying: he gave up and now he just carries his one and only picture of her.

She became his lucky charm, _his muse_ and, hell, _she didn't even know him_, didn't even know he exists.

It's all so stupid.

But despite his thoughts, he brought her image to his lips, "Bring me more luck again this time around too." He murmured, whispering it heartily as if it's his prayer.

Which probably technically is… he'd been saying that mantra over and over ever since he started his career as a newbie photographer and continues saying it even when he shot up to fame and became famous among well-known companies and agencies who clamored to get a hold of his schedule.

Even when he faced hundreds of beautiful female models, he never forgot her. She was there in the back of his mind, deeply rooted and stubbornly strong—holding his thoughts and actions and continuously inspiring him in ways he couldn't fathom.

He didn't know if he could call it infatuation, if so, is it possible to hold a crush for _years_?

And it's not _like_ either, the feeling is much deeper than that… and love?

He doesn't even know her.

Perhaps he's in love but _not_ _with her_ but with the _idea of her;_ of how she's like or how she'll turn out to be. He wanted to meet her again and actually get to know her. He wanted to learn _what_ she's like and _how_ she's like... to know more about her more than just the simple detail that she has a younger strawberry blonde-haired sister and a small pet dog who came to pick her up that one breezy afternoon in the park.

He drew the picture away from his lips and stared at it.

The photo itself looked tattered and old but he didn't care as long as he could still clearly see the contours of her face, the way she was so… _ethereal_ and _otherworldly_. She wore an over-sized green sweatshirt, her messy braid covering whatever design the said clothing had, and paired it with a black skirt, probably laced basing from the texture and faint floral pattern. She was leaning back against the wooden bench, her hands folded neatly on her lap, her legs elegantly crossed and her eyes were closed.

He didn't even know the color of her eyes, he mentally mused. He briefly wondered if they were as green as her sweatshirt or as blue as the ocean… or if they were a golden shade of brown or a unique shade of onyx black.

Deep down inside, he hoped they were a glassy or icy blue. Pretty common, sure, but he thought the color of winter would suit her.

He sighed as he tucked the picture away, as gently and as carefully as he always had, in his wallet before he stuffed it in his pocket.

He should seriously stop.

"Mr. Frost?" The secretary called his attention and he hastily stands up, nodding his head amicably in acknowledgement, "We're sorry for the delay but the models for today's photo shoot were late. Ms. Arendelle, my boss, sends her deepest apologies for the tardiness of our hired talents."

"It's fine." He waved her off coolly, not in a condescending manner but in an attempt to calm her down.

The secretary, however, is apparently not comforted, "We really are very sorry Mr. Frost," She frowned, "You're a very busy person and it was extremely hard to finally book an appointment with you and yet the models had the audacity to show up late. I'll talk to their agency and make sure this doesn't happen again next time." Then she flushed, suddenly flustered as if she'd chosen to speak the wrong set of words, "Given, of course, if we'll be able to book another appointment."

He chuckled in amusement, a gesture that made it obvious how he knew he intimidated her but it held a tone that pointed out how he couldn't get _why_. Honestly, he really couldn't get why they think so highly of him. He's just doing his job, really, and even though he's quite well-known in the advertising and entertainment industry, he's just… Jack.

He's just plain old Jack with a widowed mother and an obnoxious little sister.

He's nothing special.

And don't even bring up his monthly salary because those are just figures-even if those figures would render your jaw slack and force your eyeballs out of your eye sockets. It doesn't define him.

"Relax, it's fine, I'm cool." He replied, "Things happen for a reason."

The secretary opened her mouth to retort but she was cut off by the sound of her work phone ringing. She briefly fished it out of her pocket, and he watched as her frown become more apparent than what he thought was possible, which in turn made him fight the urge to laugh at her expense to avoid being rude, "Ms. Arendelle said that she would personally supervise the shoot later," She scrolled down, her brows drawn so close together, it could pass as a uni-brow, "And that for the meantime, I should lead you to the studio you're going to use." She increased her pace, flicking her wrist and stuffing the sleek black smartphone in the pocket of her ashen grey pencil skirt.

"Okay." He consented as he silently lagged behind. He patted his pocket that contained his wallet and he idly wondered if he'll ever meet her again.

She stopped, and he briskly stopped too, sighing in relief when he didn't bump into her. She opened the doors and gestured for him to enter first.

He did as implied and whistled appreciatively at the sight. As expected of Arendelle Corp., they are indeed top of the notch. The studio is wide and spacious and is designed accordingly to the Victorian Era theme the corporation wanted him to do. All he has to do left is to project the image they wanted him to project which is good, because contrary to popular belief, in which the public holds him as a respectable, industrious and diligent young man, he is actually a lazy procrastinator.

You know, That's exactly the reason why he needed the schedules—to arrange a time to just relax, not necessarily to organize his time and to fit all clients in. Heh.

"I'm glad you liked what you see, Mr. Frost." An unfamiliar voice, seductively sweet yet authorative, snapped him out of his reverie making him briefly face the owner.

And within three seconds his heart did a somersault with his jaw nearly falling to the floor. Good thing he was quick to gather his cool and was able to give the lady a suave smile.

It was _her_. The lady he was musing about.

"Mr. Frost," The secretary called, standing stiffly behind whom he presumed is Ms. Arendelle, "This is Ms. Elsa Arendelle," Ah, so he was right, "The CEO of Arendelle Corporations."

Elsa (he's allowed to address her that in his thoughts, right?) held out her hand for a handshake.

He tentatively took it and stupidly felt high, as if he's on drugs or something, with how her palms felt very soft and smooth yet sturdy against his calloused one. "The name's Jackson Overland Frost." He said, taking the initiative to introduce himself and to spare the stiff secretary some work. "But I think you already know that." He added with an impish grin, not really intending to sound cocky but in a failed attempt to sound both playful and friendly.

They, regrettably for Jack's side, let go of each other's hand and he took notice of her amused expression. Her eyes were lidded as a small smile crept up her lips. He nearly cheered upon realizing that her eyes were indeed blue—though not icy or glassy as what he originally hoped them to be. Her shade of blue was much better-_beautiful-er_ if such a word exists.

"I do. You're quite famous among the ladies." She affirmed as she rolled her slender shoulders, straightening her back and standing in a rather regal posture. He flushed, sort of shy and timid about the idea and not fully comprehending the flattery, "I'm truly sorry for the delay. I was sure to inform their agency with the schedule."

He shook his head, "It's really fine. I'm not one of those pompous photographers or anything." He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly.

Her lips curved even more and she nodded, "I could see that." And he swore her eyes twinkled, "You're very humble Mr. Frost."

"Jack."

"Pardon?" She stared at him confusedly.

"Jack," He repeated, his voice both friendly and determined, "Just Jack. Mr. Frost makes me feel old."

She bit her lip, as if to keep herself from grinning, _and was that really necessary? He swore he wanted to bite it himself._ Ew. He sounds like a creep and a pervert. "Understood." She nodded emphatically, "To be fair, you can address me as Elsa."

"Then it's nice to meet you, Elsa."

"The pleasure is mine."

And in three seconds, he realized, that he wanted to be her friend.


	9. Her Eyes

**Her Eyes**

Jack stared.

She talked, unaware of his piercing gaze as she went on and on about the interesting facts of Scandinavian history and Norse Mythology, her lips moving in animated chatter as she skipped about on the cemented pavement and donning out of her usual elegant posture as her eyes sparkled with enthusiastic passion. Her hands moved in wide, extravagant gestures to further emphasize her point, stopping once or twice or placing her index finger near her chin as she tried to remember anything she might've forgotten to say.

She had been on about the topic for nearly an hour now—not that he bothered to count, it just felt like nearly an hour had passed, really. The accuracy of his deduction was rather questionable but that fact is rather insignificant compared to what he just noticed.

Were her eyes that _blue_?

Well, he _knew_ they were blue, but were they _that_ blue?

He casually matched her excited pace, gravitating even more closely to her side in order to further scrutinize the color of her eyes .

"–to Odin and, Jack!" He vaguely heard her hiss with frustration as she stopped, prompting him to nearly bumped into her slender frame. He blinked, his lips automatically curling into his infamous grin, "You weren't listening!" She accused as she glared at him with a rather steely gaze, arms crossed haughtily against her chest and brows furrowed in distaste.

He raised both his hands up in surrender before shoving them in his pockets. "I'm sorry." He quickly apologized, his gaze sizing up to hers, "I was thinking," He saw her relax her posture, both her frown and her glare gone, now replaced by both a smirk and mocking expression, as if telling him she didn't believe he actually had the mental capacity to _think_, "_Something_." He quickly added, frowning in her stead, "I could think too, you know." He huffed as he walked past her, head held high in mock dignity.

She giggled before catching up to him, "What were you thinking about?" She asked instead knowing that he would just zone her out once she continues from where she left off.

He shrugged, "Nothing."

"But you said '_something_' earlier."

"Did I say 'something'? I never said 'something', Snowflake, what I actually meant was 'nothing'."

She hummed, not really buying it before she halted once again when a display from a shop caught her attention. She moved towards the window and crouched down with the palm of her hands pressing against the glass wall to support her weight. "Cute." She muttered, mostly to herself, but it was loud enough for her companion to hear prompting him to stop and stand behind her.

He leaned in to get a better view of what she was looking at and saw an Alaskan Malamute huddled in the corner of his cage, sleeping. He crouched down too beside her and they stared at the puppy for a while until he got bored and opted to stare at her instead.

Seeing her up close, it still amazes him how beautiful and clear her eyes were but unlike before, he got a clearer glimpse of what they _actually_ were rather than what he _thought _they were.

For as long as he could remember, Jack always thought that her eyes were of an icy blue akin to that of a blue quartz gem—beautiful but cold and unfeeling. You see, before the two of them got close, positive emotions are an anomaly on Elsa's face (save when she's around her sister, that was usually the time she sported her brightest smile), it was…_weird._ She never smiled around other people, like _sincerely_ smiled; it was more of a polite nod and a slight, barely visible, curl of the lips. Whenever she sees his face, he fondly remembers, she would automatically scowl or grimace. Then again, he can't really blame her for acting that way; he used to bring her a boatload of headaches, now? Not so much. But he still does.

Can't help it, force of nature.

Now though, her eyes seemed to practically shine with warmth as she made goo-goo eyes at the dog that casually ignored her and focused on his sleep.

"You know," His mouth ranted off before he had the time to process what he was doing, "You're eyes are the most beautiful pair I've ever seen."

He was embarrassed as soon as the words left his mouth, but the blood that rushed to her cheeks and the shocked looked on her face made it gratifying in an oddly sadistic way. The corner of his lips tugged up, wearing that stupid smirk he's infamously known for.

She scowled, "Quite making fun of me, Frost." Then she harrumphed, stood up and left prompting him to quickly follow after her with an amused chuckle.

Some things never changed after all.

But whatever he said wasn't really a lie.

**Did you enjoy it? Hihi~ I hope you did!**


	10. Clubbing

**I think you guys will have fun reading this even though I personally think they are all out of character—I'll have you guys be the judge of that.**

**Specially calling out Mrs. Uzamaki – Dragneel, I hope you like this little shot. :3**

**Trapid: Thanks for your never-ending support dear, you never fail to liven up my day. ^_^**

**OoPoPcAnDy: I noticed the error but I was too lazy to change it. Thanks for pointing it out though. Here, a virtual cookie for your good deed (: :)**

**MaidenAlice: You're a new reviewer~ hi~ **

**litanolastar: Glad that you do. Thanks for taking the time to read. :D**

**Fenris Jin: Thaks for clogging up my Yahoo! Mail with your reviews. It made my day.**

**Lia-nee and Sunny~ Thanks for giving me feedback while making this :D You guys are the best! huehuehue**

**To all that followed and clicked this as their favorite, thanks~ **

* * *

_~May the fortress be with you~_

* * *

**Clubbing**

_Hic_

Jack giggled, finding the strange constriction of his chest and the sound that came after it both amusing and funny. Who knew he was capa –_hic_—ble of creating that funny noise? _Hic._ Heyyyyy, he's doing it again!

He cackled with glee, even throwing his head back in laughter before downing his Martini in one full swing. His face contorted with a bitter expression, not really appreciating the taste, but poured himself another shot, or at least, tried to. The alcohol completely missed the glass and instead was now trickling down the bar counter. He narrowed his eyes, frustrated that not one out of the three glasses dancing in front of him was filled no matter how much he poured.

"Jack, you're drunk." A hand reached out to get his drink.

"Hey!" He whined in protest as he tried to take the bottle back, "Would you stand still?!" He hissed as he lunged at one of the three figures that looked like Kristoff and fell into a belly flop on one of the stools.

"That proved my point." Kristoff sighed as he grabbed the wasted mass of his friend to set him straight, "I was completely standing still." He controlled the exasperation in his voice as though he was scolding a kid—but given Jack's current mentality, he might as well _be _ scolding an overgrown _kid_. He rolled his eyes. Hiccup was right, this was a bad idea. He should've followed his scrawny friend than follow the ill-advice of the passed out Eugene who's currently snoozing on the floor and comically hugging the stool as if it was a teddy bear, his face snuggling against the cushions where his butt should've been. "Look," He said sternly with a strained voice, "I should take you home before—"

"Ooh look!" Jack giggled again, cutting off whatever the former was about to say, stretching one of his weak limbs into the space behind Kristoff, "She's _hot_." He whistled appreciatively, nodding as if he had set some very important goal for himself. He pushed Kristoff's face away from him and attempted to right himself until he hiccuped, _again._ "I," He pointed at himself with his thumb, "call dibs on that lady." He pointed at the approaching silhouette, "'Ya hear—_hic_—me?" He then gave him an '_I'm watching you sign'_ before he confidently strolled over to the lady he was talking about.

Kristoff sighed, not bothering to hide his exasperation as he watched his friend make a fool of himself. To his shock, he saw his sister-in-law, arms crossed and glaring daggers at a very drunk Jack.

_Oh boy._

He stepped forward, feeling the need to assist his friend but decided against it knowing that it wouldn't be a good idea and that receiving an earful of incessant scolding isn't what he's needing.

Instead, he sat on a stool, ordered a bottle of water and watch as the scene unfolded in front of him—and maybe film it while he's at it. He's sure Anna would be amused. He mused mischievously in his thoughts as he simultaneously pulled out his phone.

_**-x-**_

To say that it's not going well is a _kind_ way of putting it.

"Excuse —_hic_—me, miss."

Elsa was, at first, surprised to hear that despite the ear-shattering, fast-paced, sex-me-up music echoing all over the room (she could almost swear she could feel the ground quaking because of all that musical vibration) but was quick to get over it as she turned her head at the sound of that deep baritone voice and was frankly unsurprised to see a drunkard in silvery white hair making his way towards her despite looking _very much_ ready to collapse. She huffed, haughtily, knowing fully well that there's an incredibly high chance that _that _blubbering fool is referring to her. He was waving at her. She had to be blind not to figure that out. She rolled her eyes. She had important matters to attend and yet _this guy_ is—

"I think you owe me a drink."

…hitting on her. He actually had the _nerve_ to HIT. ON. HER.

If she wasn't annoyed, she would've commended him for his valiance.

She inwardly groaned, obviously exasperated since she just doesn't have time for these, while outwardly maintaining a calm façade that seemed to have become her de facto expression whenever she's met with such…_idiosyncratic_ situations very much alike her current predicament. "And why is that?" She fully faced him, arms crossed on top of her chest and looking the farthest from amused.

He seemed to be able to regain his balance as he stood straight for quite a while before he leaned towards her, his drunken breath infiltrating her nostrils and making her wrinkle her nose in obvious distaste. "Because when I looked at you, I dropped the one I was drinking." He muttered, his eyes glancing not-so-discretely on her cherry red lips.

She leaned away, nearly mortified at his act of indecency yet at the same time, feeling incredibly smug that she's still able to seduce a guy in a club at the happy age 27 (Yippie! Cue sarcasm)—which is very _unlike_ her usual self. Still, it's kind of empowering for the good ol' ego. "It's not my fault, now, is it?" She cocked a brow, shooting down his lame attempt of a pick-up line.

He slithered to her side, completely ignoring her remark as he took note of her navy colored, body hugging, tube dress that accentuated every bit of her curves and ending modestly at three inches above her knees. "You look cold, sweet," he snaked his arms around her, "Want to use me as a blanket?" He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively.

She only scoffed, slapping his hands away from her as she sashayed towards the bar, weaving her way through the crowd and scowling at the appalling sight of people grinding against each other. Goodness, they need a proper bedroom. She tore her eyes from the horrifying sight and turned her attention back on him, "You're drunk." She said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world—which kind of is.

She heard him hiccup and wondered _where _he got the strength to _scramble_ behind her accounting the fact that he's more than moderately drunk. He should collapse any time and that thought isn't an inviting prospect.

She shook her head out of mild exasperation—and partly to get rid of the smell of sweat and drugs that had thickly graced the air with its undoubtedly putrid scent. How could people _stand _this place? It's loud and noisy and cluttered with drunken people—definitely not _her_ cup of tea.

She noticed Kristoff, drinking calmly from a water bottle with his smartphone tucked suspiciously in his breast pocket, and Eugene, drunkenly passed out on a stool. She wrinkled her nose before catching her brother-in-law's eyes and giving him a look.

He only shrugged and smiled back sheepishly, gesturing to the passed out dude as if saying _'it's his idea.'_

At least he's the most decent out of the three. She kind of figured that the guy that's hitting on her came along with them.

"I'm not drunk." Said guy tried to deny, "I'm only—_hic_—intoxicated by _you_."

She wanted to stuff her ears with cotton.

_Gosh!_ Could he get any worse?

Begrudgingly, she sat on a stool that's near Kristoff (around two seats away), politely shaking her head when the bartender asked her what she wanted to drink before turning her attention back at him, arms crossed, back straight with the back of her right knee on top of her left thigh and the skirt of her dress slightly hiking up to reveal more of her snowy white skin, "_Uh-huh_." She narrows her eyes at him.

"So, snowflake," he leaned in closer with no ounce of neither self-restraint nor gentlemanly persuasion but only with plain drunken impulse and alcohol-driven brain, hiccuping once in a while, "Do you have a boyfriend?" He tried to lean on the bar counter in what she believed was to be in a _suave_ manner but only succeeded in keeping himself from toppling over the air when his elbow hit an empty space. He must be seeing double. She needed to bite the inside of her lip to keep herself from smiling.

Despite being drunk, he's quick.

And he's definitely amusing despite being annoying.

Oh goodness… seeing him, she sort of wished she doesn't have a boyfriend. She mentally winced before letting a wry smirk grace her lips. Her eyes now shone with mild amusement and through Jack's hazy eyes, she looks like the epitome of a vixen wearing an angelic disguise and it kind of, _sort of_… okay, it _really_ thrills him.

"No." She replied. She technically isn't lying anyway and seeing his entire expression light up as if he was beaming from the inside with (a deceptively) childish glee made it totally worth it.

Now to crush him into ashes…

"But I have a fiancé." She quickly amended, her smirk turning into a sadistically smug grin in response to his ugly scowl.

"I bet I'm more handsome than him." He boasted raising his lean arms to flaunt his not-so-visible muscles (it's there, but you have to squint your eyes a _bit_) when his friend's boisterous laughter interrupted him. He whipped his head to face Kristoff, failing to notice Elsa's exasperated expression, and growled at him, "Shut—_hic_— up! Don't ruin my chance for a d—_hic—_ate, man!" He said that with the intent to make Kristoff shut up, but said man only guffawed even more which startled Eugene and woke him up screaming, 'DON'T HIT ME WITH THE FRYING PAN!' before collapsing again.

Jack scowled even more before he turned to face the pretty lady again and noticed that there are two of them instead of one of her but quickly figured that it's the booze acting up and only one of them is real and the other one, a mirage.

He stares at the one he _thinks_ is her, though in reality, he's staring in no one particular and Elsa (the real one) nearly sighs.

"In terms of looks," She drawled in a way that showed how far she is from being amused, "You are on par." And she's being honest with that, "But I prefer him because he's _sober_." Her glare passes through him like a knife, almost akin to a mother scolding a misbehaving child. Her eyes were sharp and scrutinizing and a hint of chastisement wasn't hidden in her voice—it was almost like she's _blaming _ him.

But stubborn as he was, he remained undeterred, "I'm sure I'll be—_hic_—sweeping you off your feet in n—_hic— _no time and you'll be brea—_hic_—king up with him!"

If she had restrained before, now she had no qualms in actually sighing and she hears Kristoff's laugh. Elsa, though, could be rather cold when she needed and expertly silenced him with one single glare, "You do realize you're saying that you want me to break up with you so that I could be with you?" She asked. The lilt in her tone was enough to express her annoyance and frustration with her _idiot_ fiancé, disregarding the fact that it also hinted a fair amount of amusement.

How on _earth_ was he able to convince her to marry him again? He's worst when drunk—wait, not worst, but more like 'embarrassing'.

She can't believe she's thinking how she'd rather choose cocky Jack over extremely drunk Jack. Goodness, she'll choose the former over the latter any day and that's already sacrificing a lot. Cocky Jack is annoying Jack.

He blinked, scrunching his nose like a little kid (and adorably so! Elsa had no idea how he does it, but _goodness_, how could he pull of cool _and _cute at the same time? ) with his brows furrowed in concentration as if he's letting the words gradually sink. When it finally did, he offered her a lopsided smile, hiccuped and then said, "Well, aren't I a very lucky guy?" He chuckled as a flicker of sobriety masked his features, his eyes glazed in what she could decipher as…fondness but when she blinked, it was gone and replaced with his infamous crooked smile (that always gets her) and a dreamy look in his eyes (which is admittedly weird yet endearing).

She swallowed the invisible lump that formed in her throat as she calmly and elegantly arched one perfect eyebrow, bracing herself for another round of sickly, sappy, romantic mush. She should be rightfully mad at him for overstaying in this ludicrous place (and give Eugene an earful that could last a lifetime while she's at it) but it's his bachelor's party and considering that some guys take it to the extreme by going in a strip club and probably actually sleeping with a stripper… he's forgivable.

Actually, overstaying isn't the problem. It's the fact that he got _that_ intoxicated that irritated her more than anything although she must appraise him for still being able to talk without slurring…yet.

At least she now knows that an extremely drunk Jack is a mushy Jack. Mushy Jack is better than violent Jack. Although she is yet to see her fiance unleash any sort of hatred-induced violence so she concludes she won't be seeing it anytime soon.

She exhaled air loudly as she waited, rather expectantly.

His body swayed as he leaned closer to her, his hiccups now ceasing and his sight still looking at the empty space behind her as if that's where _she _was sitting, his body a mere few inches from hers as she backed against the counter and said, no, _slurred_ this time (she vaguely wonders if she jinxed it), "Because I—_hic—_ fell in love with a beautifuuul ladyyy whom I contwos, continwas, co-con—"

"Continuously" She pointed out with a slight wag of her right index finger in the air, rolling her eyes as she aided him, trying to appear nonchalant even though the faint blush on her cheeks stated otherwise.

"Yeah, that." He mumbled, nodding resolutely, "Whom I continuously fall in love with, drunk or sobeeerrr." Then he fainted, collapsing on her lithe frame.

Maybe she won't hold this incident against him for some time.

* * *

_~May the fortress be with you~  
_

* * *

**Do you like it? Sorry if you think the end is kind of lame. Huehuehuehuehue… **_**and**_** I'm sorry for going into a hiatus too. I was being indecisive again since I don't know what to write—oh, excuse me, **_**choose**_** to finish for the next update. I've got a lot more unfinished drafts piled up but I have no idea which one to finish first. XD It'll depend on the mood. **

**Hey, if you like this story so much, read on for the extra scene:**

* * *

Jack woke up the next day with a splitting headache—the kind of headache were you think an axe was directly being smashed on your skull for the sick pleasure of splitting it open. He groaned, "Damn! My head hurts."

Upon hearing his voice, Kristoff, who is kind of the one assigned to babysit both of his friends, cocked his head slightly to the side as he crossed his arms, an amused smile crossing his face as if he was directly looking at a jester or some idiot or something, "It should be. You had it badly yesterday." There was a light chastisement in his tone but it was mostly covered with his amusement so it was either Jack actually didn't hear the scolding or he was deliberately ignoring it by focusing on massaging his temples. Kristoff thinks it's the latter even though it's hard to tell. His friend really did seem in pain.

Jack slapped his palm on his forehead, groaning at the pain and cursing at the world. He's starting to question why on earth he let himself be persuaded by that stupid Flynn—Eugene, whatever. God! Eugene should've stuck with the nickname of Flynn, less confusion that way. He just had to use his real name when he met Rapunzel to 'show he's a changed man'. Yea right, he still wants to party every night although he no longer checks out on other girls... "Did I do anything stupid?" He lifts his palm a bit, cracking one eye to look at his friend who was casually sitting near the bed on a wooden chair.

"Oh," The blonde man hummed, "Not much." He replied nonchalantly, teasing his friend rather than easing his worries because, really, that's what friends do.

Jack huffed, closing his eyes as he slid his hand down his face, the pads of his fingers massaging his cheeks, "What do you mean?" He opened his eyes and cocked an eyebrow as he slowly sat up.

"You only asked your fiancé if she was single." Kristoff answered a little-too noncommittally.

Jack groaned again, his body sluggish and _absolutely_ wasted, "Should I ask if _I'm_ now single after hearing that statement?" He slumped, a grumble on his lips.

Kristoff gives him an amused, semi-sympathetic look.

Jack looks at him and widens his eyes. "I didn't fuck anything up now, did I?"

Kristoff chuckles, "Lucky you, you're fiancé is not breaking it off yet." He smiled smugly, loving the fact that the tables had turned and he's now the one teasing Jack and not the other way around. He adjusted his sitting position so that he could bend comfortably as he propped his elbows on his knees and rested his chin on his clasped hands.

"Yet…?" Jack asked, partly dreadful yet mostly flabbergasted, "What do you mean yet?!"

Kristoff actually had the _audacity _to _smirk_, "The shenanigans you did yesterday went viral in the internet."

And Jack, quite understandably given the situation, fainted…_again._

The End.

* * *

**Hi~! I would like to apologize for the lack of balance.**

**I'm not entirely sure what a club looks like in the inside (I've only had a peek of their either shabby or ridiculously fancy exterior) since I'm not legally of age yet (and even if I was, loud music doesn't sit in well with me) so I was just basing it from all those American and local films I had watched and guessing that it probably smells like sex, sweat, drugs and alcohol or something. Even then, I found it disheartening how I just couldn't pull of the **_**setting**_** well because really, I lack imagination. Ugh. I suck.**

**So forgive me if I wasn't able to achieve that… perfect (for the lack of better term) equilibrium between the setting, the characters and the story.**

**Although I am **_**hoping**_** to improve myself in that department seeing that I write fictional stories and imagination is such a crucial ingredient in it.**

**Feel free to help me with anything else.**

**Love lots,**

**Rose (Haven't done this in a while XD)**

**PS: For those who follow Aeternum, The Looking Glass and Moonlit Night, I **_**might**_** be able to update them before the end May. Hopefully, procrastination wouldn't bet the best of me. I'm halfway done with all three of them anyway. **


End file.
